The Story of Beyond Birthday
by DeathNoteRoleplays
Summary: Through childhood years to adulthood. From start to finish. The life of the crimson eyed boy who'd grow up to be a serial killer, Beyond Birthday.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

It was thunderstorming when he was brought into the world. Kazumi Ryuzaki's first and only son: Rue Ryuzaki.

In the English language, Rue meant to regret.

On November 1st he was born, brought home from the hospital about a week later. He was unusually small for his age, which of course concerned his Mother. Though she was unprepared to have a child at the time of his conception, she knew she was prepared to love Rue unconditionally.

Not even two months later, Rue's Father was beaten to death by street muggers. Since the baby barely knew his Father, who would go out every other night to get drunk at a local bar, he was unaffected when the man stopped showing up. His Mother, however, was left with a broken heart. She in no way had enough money to raise a son on her own, especially falling into her depression.

And then, to top this all off, she found out her son wasn't normal.

"Mommy, what do the numbers mean?"

Rue asked once he was old enough to speak. Though only two years old, he was brilliant enough to form long sentences without the slightest hesitation. He watched TV a lot, and learned all the colors and shapes at a younger age. His vocabulary wasn't so advanced as an older kid, sure, but it was still highly impressive for his age.

"What numbers, sweetie?"

She asked.

He pointed.

"The ones on everyone's heads… They're red… And they change all the time. They just… float there."

Her blood ran cold. Because she knew things she did when she was younger that she would never tell her son. Deals she made. People, or rather _things_, she met. Upon finding out she was pregnant, her relationship with Rue's Father turned for the worse. He didn't want a son. Meeting a Shinigami, she gladly took the chance to half her own lifespan, and curse her unwanted child with those eyes.

She never answered his question.

His childhood wasn't the best, though it was stable enough to keep living. In the five years he grew up at home with Kazumi, he never once celebrated a holiday. On his birthday, he had no idea he was supposed to receive presents. All he got was a strawberry shortcake – his favorite kind of cake.

His Mother clearly showed signs of being afraid of her son as he got older. The way he took a fascination with playing with knives, drawing dark pictures, and even violent TV shows or movies. Have you ever heard of a four year old who absolutely loved horror films? She did. That was her son.

"Mommy.. Are you scared of me?" He asked her one day, licking strawberry jam off his fingers with an open jar in his lap. She stared back at Rue for a moment, as if she was shocked this question came to his mind, before laughing lightly and shaking her head. What a good liar she must've been. "No, Rue, Mommy isn't scared of you. Why would you say such a thing?" She didn't wait for an answer though, ruffling his hair a bit and walking quickly into the she check to see if all the knives were still there? He didn't know, but did hear a drawer or two open without even having to look in her direction.

He used to have nightmares a lot more often than dreams as a child. He would wake up crying in the middle of the night, hugging his stuffed bear to my chest and calling out for 'Mommy'. She would then unlock the door to enter his room and sit on the edge of his bed, pulling him into her lap and hugging him close. "It's okay, Rue.. Mommy's got you.. It's okay.. It's not real, just a nightmare.." She rarely asked what they were about, for fear that they would either become true, or be too dark and evil for her to comprehend. As if having red eyes made him Satan's spawn. Though it was moments like that, being hugged and assured that he was safe and sound, that Rue will cherish and remember long after. Though he often found himself wishing he was treated that way all the time by his Mother.

And then, Kazumi Ryuzaki committed suicide when he was only five years old.

Throwing herself into an oncoming train, she left her confused son all alone in a big and scary world. Without any other family, it was clear that an orphanage had to take in Rue. And Quillish Wammy just happened to step up to that responsibility.


	2. Chapter 2: A

The rain pattered lightly outside as a five year old boy with jet black hair and bright crimson eyes was escorted by the hand towards his new home. This was a day he'd remember so well, no matter how old he got. Because this marked the first day of the rest of his new life, when everything changed. Though if it was for better or worse, he still couldn't tell.

His birth name, Rue Ryuzaki, would never be spoken of again. 'B' was what he was going to be called now. The old man told the child this, and 'B' simply shrugged and nodded his head. His own name didn't matter to him, because it was the only one he couldn't see. But everyone else's? They'd always remain above their heads. Never change. The only thing that would change would be the numbers slowly ticking down to what little B quickly discovered after his parents' passing would be their death.

He was given his own room, with plain white walls and only necessary furniture. There was a bed, a desk, computer, closet and a small television upon a wooden dresser. It wasn't as much as he had in his room at home, but it was enough, as the old man Watari said. Or that was what he called himself. But B didn't understand - why would he call himself Watari, when the name above his head clearly showed 'Quillish Wammy'?

After a day of getting adjusted, B finally allowed himself to leave his bedroom and observe the other children. No one was younger than five here - only older or exactly his age. Though the boy had a habit of examining every person he came into contact with, as if trying to learn everything about them and judge them based on appearance, barely anyone made the effort to get to know him. He'd get a few nervous smiles in return, maybe a 'hello', but nothing more than that. Maybe he was just unapproachable. Maybe frightening. B knew that - his Mother told him a bunch of times. But that was just because she was scared of her own son, and for good reasoning, too.

But that all changed when he walked into the library downstairs, meeting a slightly shorter blonde sitting down at a small circle shaped table with a novel that looked fit for someone older to read in his two hands. Curious, the crimson eyed boy bit his thumb and approached. It was as if he had no idea how to start conversation, and simply waited until his presence was acknowledged by the boy whose name was Aiden Hades.

A was the first child brought to Wammy's house. He was one year older, age six, but was told he was extremely smart for his age. A didn't really have any friends, though he had an extremely outgoing and friendly personality. Maybe it was because others knew they were inferior to the boy who would someday be L's first successor. And five year old A, excited that his life would someday mean something as he lived as an important detective, was unaware of any pressure he'd soon face.

A noticed someone standing in front of him behind his large mystery novel. He placed it down and looked up at B, smiling brightly. "Hello..." He said softly, holding out his hand for the other to shake. It was a polite greeting, one taught to him by his Mother. Coming from a somewhat wealthy family who prided themselves on their brilliant manners and professions, it was a shame they died from a criminal's arson to their house.

B blinked.

He stared at the outstretched hand for a moment, as if confused what A was trying to do. But, after a moment of his mind processing what the blonde boy intended, he gave a small friendly smile in return and shook his hand. Smiles were something he had to work on... Either they didn't appear genuine enough, or they crept out the other person.

"Hello...

You're A."

Though this was the first time they were speaking, B knew who A was. The first successor. The alternate. He himself was the backup. Most children here did go by letters, and A was the first – of course. The fact that A's real name also started with that letter almost brought a chuckle out of him.

The blonde nodded. Ocean blue eyes averted down to the book in his hands before the page was neatly dog-eared, and the now closed novel was set down on the table.

"That's me… And you are?"

"B."

_Backup._

_Your backup._

A smiled. "B… It's nice to meet you."

Everything changed after that.

From the moment A left the library, leaving a curious raven haired boy behind, B knew that he made his first ever friend. He knew he now developed a strong fascination for A, more than anyone else. He started to follow A around every day, eyeing him up and down and analyzing everything he could about him. Whether it be little things about his appearance like the dimples when he smiled, or his small mannerisms like the way he bit his lower lip when concentrating. His blonde hair so soft, his blue eyes so bright, his smile so… so… Words couldn't even describe the feeling he'd get in his heart from seeing that smile.

B was in love before he even knew what the word meant.

Did this all make A a bit uneasy? Of course. A tried even to avoid B sometimes, though he'd never skip his classes. B memorized his schedule after sneaking a quick glance during foreign language class one day, and was thankful he'd never have to sit through a class without A. Their bedrooms right next door to each other, B would often press his ear against the wall to listen. Sometimes he would hear quiet snoring, while other times he'd hear the tapping away of fingers at a computer keyboard.

It wasn't until A was seven, that he started to warm up to B. It was no longer a fascination from a distance, but the two developed into inseparable best friends. They'd have sleepovers in eachother's rooms, sneak out after lights out for a midnight snack downstairs, play video games together, watch TV – anything. Though A was much more on top of his schoolwork than B, he'd often help the other finish it.

Then, Christmas time rolled around.


End file.
